YOU. YOU. YOU.
Title: Moments
Characters: Atobe Keigo & Oshitari Yuushi
Rating: PG-13
Summary: At the moment of imminent death, what was your last thought?
A/N: This plot line spun off a couple of other accompanying fics.
It had been two weeks since the incident but the media hounds were relentless. As a last resort, Atobe sent his infamous assistant (they christened him the 'Bodyguard’) to the impromptu press conference at his doorstep. He figured Kabaji’s curt, expressionless responses would be enough to send the shallow pricks running for their hide. Yet the bloodhounds smelt blood and he knew they were right.
Today was no different. They were crowded on his lawn, vans, mikes, lights and cameras all parked and ready for his imminent appearance. Without his knowledge, they had even set up a tent of some sort. If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought there was a carnival or a festival happening on his lawn.
‘Damn that Yuushi.’ Atobe was sure it was Oshitari’s doing.
He didn’t blame the bespectacled man (till this day, Oshitari still wore his round, old school glasses, insisting that it made his job easier). Atobe knew it was only natural for the media to flock to him like vultures to the dead, especially after such drama. Inwardly, their attempts at getting a piece of him were comforting even. However, he did not enjoy the attention. If it had been two weeks ago, he wouldn’t have given a second thought to ‘blessing’ them with his magnificence. But 14 days changed it all.
Atobe was a natural showman. He was born to be idolized and relished being in the spotlight. But since the incident, his world had gone through one hell of a roller coaster ride and now, he could care less what the world thought of him. He had more urgent things to deal with, things that even his name and money couldn’t buy.
‘Let them spin their tale all they want.’ But Oshitari had been adamant.
No media firm wanted to miss this. It was no exclusive since everyone who was anyone in the media field was present. But he was the heir of the Atobe Empire and that alone guaranteed ratings. So when he had finally agreed to the press conference, they came in droves. He refused to give Oshitari the satisfaction but in truth, Atobe knew he needed this closure. It was time to face the music and move on.
No more hide and seek. He had to remind the world what Atobes were made of.
As he walked out to meet them, he caught his reflection against the glass and glared.
That scar bothered him. It was barely noticeable yet Atobe found himself obsessed with it. His flawless features were marred and instead of becoming like those third rate stars past their sell by date, the paparazzi were in a twisted frenzy. He couldn’t fathom why they were more in love with him than before. It didn’t make sense.
“The scar makes you human Keigo.” Atobe simply shot him an icy glare.
"Novelty will fade with time, so will that scar. Besides, it adds a rugged, worldly appeal to your image.” But the diva would hear nothing of it. He just wanted it gone.
Atobe bristled at the memory. It was less than a day old and the words rang crystal clear. He didn’t want to fade away like novelty. He wasn’t a toy or an exhibit in the zoo but then again, his whole life was an open book. But before he could dawdle on some more, the brunette felt Oshitari’s gaze behind him. Gentle and fleeting. He nodded at Kabaji who swung the door open and at once, they were swarmed.
It was hotter than he had imagined. He never wanted a strong drink this badly but he knew Oshitari would have a field day with him. Atobe didn't need to be reminded of the difficulties in maintaining his image. With a furrowed brow, he snapped his fingers. The crowd hushed as he sat at the long table, hands folded gracefully. Oshitari took over but before he could finish his address, the crowd grew restless.
“Atobe-sama, have you found out who was behind the tampering of your limo?”
“With both your parents dead, when will you be taking over Atobe enterprises?”
“Atobe-sama, will you be fit in time for the final Grand Slam match?”
This was the part he had grown to hate. Hearing his name used so loosely and in such a crude manner irked him immensely. Atobe inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.
‘Do your job, Yuushi.’ Oshitari didn't need to be told. Impatient.
“Please, media friends! One at a time.”
He knew he was blessed. Throughout the years, Atobe always had two able assistants by his side. Kabaji - his devotion was unmatched and there was no need to question it. But the Kansai genius had proved to be especially useful. Oshitari stuck by him through storms and high hell of the industry. With his devious quick thinking and superior eloquence, Atobe was certain that there was no one better as his PR rep.
Atobe knew Oshitari sacrificed many million dollar deals just to manage his account. It never made sense to the public why the chairman of Japan’s top public relations firm always personally handled Atobe’s affairs. But both men were beyond mere friendship. Besides, Atobe always made Oshitari’s efforts worth the while.
Lazily, he pointed to a reporter at the far end. She stood immediately, ready to fire.
“Atobe-sama, what were your thoughts when you clawed out of the wreck?”
The silence was unbearably loud as they waited on bated breath. Oshitari gave him the look but Atobe feigned ignorance. They had rehearsed this and he knew what was expected of him. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to call those painful memories to mind. He felt bile rise up his throat as the images flashed across his closed eyes.
A sea of black and red. Twisted metal and broken glass.
Atobe, for the life of him, couldn’t remember how he ended up in such a royal mess.
Blood everywhere. Searing hot. The hiss of flames threatened to overwhelm him.
His surrounding was devoid of life and Atobe never felt more lost in his life.
The dull tang of blood stung his lips. His body felt like a brick in water.
Everything was strangely fuzzy and all his senses were on a heightened alert.
From the corner of his eye, he saw it.
It laid in the flames - a mangled hand, blackened and bloody, where a ring with his family crest rested. And at once, the brunette knew he was truly alone.
As if on cue, Atobe's world spun uncontrollably. It was at that dire moment that his survival instincts kicked in. But he could barely remember anything after that. The last thing in his head was his voice before he succumbed to the lull of darkness.
Those were the remnants of the nightmare that plagued the proud Atobe heir during the weeklong coma. For the last 7 days, he would rouse at god-forsaken hours, covered in a sheen of cold sweat (or was it tears? He couldn’t differentiate) to be assured by a warm hug and a crooked smile. He wasn’t sure how but the 'tensai' constantly stood vigil by his side. Atobe would always remember his first breath after that long sleep was filled with his scent, a uniquely-Oshitari scent. Earthy. Musk.
Atobe was sure Oshitari knew staying by his side, under the guise of friendship was a thankless job that might one day break their hearts. Yet it was as if the gods had meant for them to be star-crossed lovers. They took to each other like fish to water, needing the other’s presence constantly, almost desperately, in order to survive.
When Atobe opened his eyes, the vultures were still there, light bulbs flashing. But Atobe realised he was no longer alone. He had two of them watching his back. Shoulder to shoulder like parallel lines they guarded him. Slowly, He turned to them with an imperceptible nod and stared hard at the reporter who dared invade his heart.
“I promised I would not die before him.”
It wasn’t the rehearsed answer but Atobe Keigo would have it no other way.
Those words were the absolute law that governed their world. So with a slight smirk, the 'tensai' accepted the subtle expression of devotion from the King of the World (to be).
Oshitari Yuushi knew better than to fight the truth.
Characters: Atobe Keigo & Oshitari Yuushi
Rating: PG-13
Summary: At the moment of imminent death, what was your last thought?
A/N: This plot line spun off a couple of other accompanying fics.
It had been two weeks since the incident but the media hounds were relentless. As a last resort, Atobe sent his infamous assistant (they christened him the 'Bodyguard’) to the impromptu press conference at his doorstep. He figured Kabaji’s curt, expressionless responses would be enough to send the shallow pricks running for their hide. Yet the bloodhounds smelt blood and he knew they were right.
Today was no different. They were crowded on his lawn, vans, mikes, lights and cameras all parked and ready for his imminent appearance. Without his knowledge, they had even set up a tent of some sort. If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought there was a carnival or a festival happening on his lawn.
‘Damn that Yuushi.’ Atobe was sure it was Oshitari’s doing.
He didn’t blame the bespectacled man (till this day, Oshitari still wore his round, old school glasses, insisting that it made his job easier). Atobe knew it was only natural for the media to flock to him like vultures to the dead, especially after such drama. Inwardly, their attempts at getting a piece of him were comforting even. However, he did not enjoy the attention. If it had been two weeks ago, he wouldn’t have given a second thought to ‘blessing’ them with his magnificence. But 14 days changed it all.
Atobe was a natural showman. He was born to be idolized and relished being in the spotlight. But since the incident, his world had gone through one hell of a roller coaster ride and now, he could care less what the world thought of him. He had more urgent things to deal with, things that even his name and money couldn’t buy.
‘Let them spin their tale all they want.’ But Oshitari had been adamant.
No media firm wanted to miss this. It was no exclusive since everyone who was anyone in the media field was present. But he was the heir of the Atobe Empire and that alone guaranteed ratings. So when he had finally agreed to the press conference, they came in droves. He refused to give Oshitari the satisfaction but in truth, Atobe knew he needed this closure. It was time to face the music and move on.
No more hide and seek. He had to remind the world what Atobes were made of.
As he walked out to meet them, he caught his reflection against the glass and glared.
That scar bothered him. It was barely noticeable yet Atobe found himself obsessed with it. His flawless features were marred and instead of becoming like those third rate stars past their sell by date, the paparazzi were in a twisted frenzy. He couldn’t fathom why they were more in love with him than before. It didn’t make sense.
“The scar makes you human Keigo.” Atobe simply shot him an icy glare.
"Novelty will fade with time, so will that scar. Besides, it adds a rugged, worldly appeal to your image.” But the diva would hear nothing of it. He just wanted it gone.
Atobe bristled at the memory. It was less than a day old and the words rang crystal clear. He didn’t want to fade away like novelty. He wasn’t a toy or an exhibit in the zoo but then again, his whole life was an open book. But before he could dawdle on some more, the brunette felt Oshitari’s gaze behind him. Gentle and fleeting. He nodded at Kabaji who swung the door open and at once, they were swarmed.
It was hotter than he had imagined. He never wanted a strong drink this badly but he knew Oshitari would have a field day with him. Atobe didn't need to be reminded of the difficulties in maintaining his image. With a furrowed brow, he snapped his fingers. The crowd hushed as he sat at the long table, hands folded gracefully. Oshitari took over but before he could finish his address, the crowd grew restless.
“Atobe-sama, have you found out who was behind the tampering of your limo?”
“With both your parents dead, when will you be taking over Atobe enterprises?”
“Atobe-sama, will you be fit in time for the final Grand Slam match?”
This was the part he had grown to hate. Hearing his name used so loosely and in such a crude manner irked him immensely. Atobe inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.
‘Do your job, Yuushi.’ Oshitari didn't need to be told. Impatient.
“Please, media friends! One at a time.”
He knew he was blessed. Throughout the years, Atobe always had two able assistants by his side. Kabaji - his devotion was unmatched and there was no need to question it. But the Kansai genius had proved to be especially useful. Oshitari stuck by him through storms and high hell of the industry. With his devious quick thinking and superior eloquence, Atobe was certain that there was no one better as his PR rep.
Atobe knew Oshitari sacrificed many million dollar deals just to manage his account. It never made sense to the public why the chairman of Japan’s top public relations firm always personally handled Atobe’s affairs. But both men were beyond mere friendship. Besides, Atobe always made Oshitari’s efforts worth the while.
Lazily, he pointed to a reporter at the far end. She stood immediately, ready to fire.
“Atobe-sama, what were your thoughts when you clawed out of the wreck?”
The silence was unbearably loud as they waited on bated breath. Oshitari gave him the look but Atobe feigned ignorance. They had rehearsed this and he knew what was expected of him. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to call those painful memories to mind. He felt bile rise up his throat as the images flashed across his closed eyes.
A sea of black and red. Twisted metal and broken glass.
Atobe, for the life of him, couldn’t remember how he ended up in such a royal mess.
Blood everywhere. Searing hot. The hiss of flames threatened to overwhelm him.
His surrounding was devoid of life and Atobe never felt more lost in his life.
The dull tang of blood stung his lips. His body felt like a brick in water.
Everything was strangely fuzzy and all his senses were on a heightened alert.
From the corner of his eye, he saw it.
It laid in the flames - a mangled hand, blackened and bloody, where a ring with his family crest rested. And at once, the brunette knew he was truly alone.
As if on cue, Atobe's world spun uncontrollably. It was at that dire moment that his survival instincts kicked in. But he could barely remember anything after that. The last thing in his head was his voice before he succumbed to the lull of darkness.
Those were the remnants of the nightmare that plagued the proud Atobe heir during the weeklong coma. For the last 7 days, he would rouse at god-forsaken hours, covered in a sheen of cold sweat (or was it tears? He couldn’t differentiate) to be assured by a warm hug and a crooked smile. He wasn’t sure how but the 'tensai' constantly stood vigil by his side. Atobe would always remember his first breath after that long sleep was filled with his scent, a uniquely-Oshitari scent. Earthy. Musk.
Atobe was sure Oshitari knew staying by his side, under the guise of friendship was a thankless job that might one day break their hearts. Yet it was as if the gods had meant for them to be star-crossed lovers. They took to each other like fish to water, needing the other’s presence constantly, almost desperately, in order to survive.
When Atobe opened his eyes, the vultures were still there, light bulbs flashing. But Atobe realised he was no longer alone. He had two of them watching his back. Shoulder to shoulder like parallel lines they guarded him. Slowly, He turned to them with an imperceptible nod and stared hard at the reporter who dared invade his heart.
“I promised I would not die before him.”
It wasn’t the rehearsed answer but Atobe Keigo would have it no other way.
Those words were the absolute law that governed their world. So with a slight smirk, the 'tensai' accepted the subtle expression of devotion from the King of the World (to be).
Oshitari Yuushi knew better than to fight the truth.